


...Never Going to Hear the Sound of My Voice

by CherryMountain, OnyxRing



Series: The Dreaded Realization That My Soulmate Is... [5]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Awkwardness, Deaf Character, Flirting, Language!, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Steve has good ideas, That Bucky ruins horribly, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-03 15:50:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5297198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryMountain/pseuds/CherryMountain, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxRing/pseuds/OnyxRing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky is awkward, Clint is… Clint. The two somehow make it work, though there’s still a lot to discuss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Revealed

**Author's Note:**

> Clint/Bucky where your soulmate’s name is written on your wrist. First and last name that they’re born with.
> 
> WinterHawk, though I don’t understand how they’re shipped (and ship them anyways). Which is also unusual, because Steve and Bucky are my OTP, together forever and no one else because those two!! Seriously, I ship Stucky so hard, so I have no idea why I wrote this. But, Bucky and Clint just called to me, so I had to write this, though it took me forever, and my sister yelled at me a lot to finish it :) so here!
> 
> -Onyx

“ _Fuck!_ ”

Honestly, that wasn’t the first thing he had expected to hear walking out of his apartment door.

There was a man at the top of the stairs, crouched over a box with spilled contents. Bucky Barnes watched as the blond man began cursing out a string of words, and began to pick up the contents. Standing a few feet away from the blond man was Bucky’s neighbor, Natasha.

He took a moment to close his apartment door and slide his key into the lock, before Bucky made a move forward - the ten feet - to get to the stairs. The redhead began to crouch by the blond, assumedly to help pick up the dropped items, but the blond held up a hand, “I fucking got it, okay?”

Bucky stepped forward, about to step in, instinct to protect like he had done so many times to his sisters. That was no way how to speak to someone, especially a lady. But Natasha stood up, held herself stiffly and gave a shake of her head in Bucky’s direction, which made the former soldier stop.

“Just don’t fucking sneak up on me next time,” the blond continued, picking up items off the floor and placing them in the box. “And I won’t dump your office supplies all over the hall. Damn, woman, a little warning would have been great.”

The man’s voice had begun to soften, from sounding irritated to amused. Bucky glanced up from the man, who continued to pick up supplies and mutter under his breath, and looked up at Natasha, who smiled. She looked amused herself, giving Bucky a knowing glance, which Bucky didn’t know how to take, since he wasn’t in on the joke.

“Sorry,” Natasha finally spoke up. “He’s having a hard time adjusting.”

Bucky nodded, but gave no verbal response. He had no idea what to say. _Adjusting from what?_ he wondered, but it wasn’t his place to ask. What happened between them was just that; between them.

Bucky made a move over to the stairs, purposefully making his steps heavier so the man didn’t re-dump the box of supplies in surprise again - given that the blond gave no indication that he noticed Bucky at all. Even when Natasha had spoken directly to Bucky, the man had continued to retrieve the dropped items.

Bucky took a few steps down the stairs, before glancing back up at the two still at the top of the stairs. He met the green eyes of his neighbor, dared to hitch up the side of his mouth in what he hoped looked like his own amusement, and said, “I’m pretty sure your friend has been swearing for two minutes straight.”

Bucky listened to the combined noises of laughter and curses as he descended the last of the stairs and exited the apartment building.

oOo

He didn’t see Natasha for a whole week.

It wasn’t that he was looking for her, not really. Bucky just wanted a routine, enough so that he knew that there was safety in repetitiveness, and could spot the danger when there wasn’t. He thought it was the soldier in him, still looking over his shoulder at anything that seemed off, and anything that looked suspicious.

And maybe he was worried about her. Bucky had known that Natasha was in some sort of agency, though he didn’t know if she was just a detective for a police department or if she was working in special ops. He hadn’t seen her in a week - when he usually saw her almost every day or so being that they both left for work at the same time - so he decided to take a walk down the street to the building she taught self-defense at – which had been the give-away to Bucky that she was working for an agency of a sort.

Bucky, once he had got to the building, saw that the lights were on. He stopped just next to the window, enough to see that Natasha was in fact teaching a class. Bucky felt relief as he took in the red hair and her frame, but he wasn’t really sure why. He barely knew the woman, but for some reason felt the need to protect her.

“Hey.”

Bucky startled out of his thoughts at the voice – not physically, he would never give anyone the chance to see him startled, never give anyone the chance to surprise him – and turned to the somewhat familiar voice. After seeing the dark blond hair, Bucky let himself relax. Though he never got a good look at the guy’s face, he could tell that this was the guy that was yelling – or not really – at Natasha the other day. Bucky lifted his shoulders once in a weird greeting and replied, “Hey.”

The guy grinned, and Bucky wondered if it was stupid, saying _hey_. Should he have said more, _hey, how’s it going?_ Or _what’s up?_ Or should he have just kept his mouth shut, pretend that he hadn’t heard the guy and walk away? But that’s all out of the picture so _stop thinking of how to get out of the situation before it happens because it already did happen, and now you’re stuck._

In the few seconds of Bucky’s inner debate, the guy’s grin had continued to grow, and his eyes had brightened. Bucky felt himself tense, his hands formed into fists in his jacket pockets, and his jaw clenched. As he continued to stare at the blond, the thought, _he’s pretty_ , raced across his mind, but Bucky chased it away and instead thought, _he’s creepy_. But the two still continued to stare, neither breaking the weird silence thing they had going, and Bucky was liking the idea of just walking away more and more.

After another moment of the two just staring, Bucky… moved. He turned and did just that, started to walk away. “Hey, wait!” Again, Bucky froze, stopping in his tracks. He shut his eyes, made a quick face at the pavement before turning and facing the guy once again. But he still didn’t say anything.

Instead, the blond spoke, raising a hand to scratch at his temple. “Um, so, were you waiting for Tasha, or something?”

Bucky blinked, running his eyes over the man in front of him before snapping, “What?”

The blonde blinked himself, not quite meeting Bucky’s eyes but still at his face and raised his voice a little. “For Tasha.” He pointed a finger over his shoulder, and looked before turning back to Bucky. “I saw you, and I thought…” The man finally trailed off, looking uncertain as his eyes scanned over Bucky.

The thoughts that were running through this man’s head. Did he think that Bucky was stalking Natasha? Did he think that Bucky was a serial killer, waiting for his prey? Or did he think that Bucky was romantically involved with her? “No,” Bucky didn’t want to lie, even if it made him look like a creep. “I… I was just checking in on her.” Bucky shrugged. “I hadn’t seen her in a while, wanted to make sure she was okay.” Another shrug.

“Oh.” The blond still looked confused, so Bucky added, just in case, “We’re neighbors. She lives a few doors down from me.”

At that, the man seemed to finally be satisfied, and the grin returned to his lips. The man crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the building, on the side of the window that Bucky had started at, giving Bucky another once over.

It didn’t exactly make Bucky uncomfortable, but it made him question the last three minutes of their encounter. The glances, the grins, the once over, just the way he said a simple _hey._ “Are you checking me out?”

At that, the man’s smile faltered some, and he searched Bucky’s face as if he were uncertain. For a moment, the soldier wondered if he went too far. Was it awkward that he had just come out and asked? Bucky knew that he wasn’t good at the whole flirting thing, not since he joined the army, so he had no idea how to handle the situation. The guy finally answered, “Maybe.”

Bucky found himself surprised at the answer. It was a bit childish, but Bucky… Bucky kind of found the whole thing interesting. He hadn’t found anyone interesting in a very long time, not before his deployment. And he certainly hadn’t found another man interesting long before that.

Bucky turned away from the other man, but before he took a step forward, he glanced at the blond man behind him, dared to smile, and said “good,” before walking away.

As he walked down the street, Bucky realized that that had been the longest conversation he had had in a long time, and he had only said a few sentences. Improvement.

oOo

“You’re here again.”

The blond man smiled and continued to twirl the pen that he held between his fingers. He was leaning against the wall outside of Natasha’s apartment, wearing a pair of jeans, a plain purple shirt, a dark jacket, and a pair of boots. It was in that moment that Bucky realized that this man could be military, though it was hid well, or Bucky was just imagining it. It was in a flash of a moment, where he would catch the other man snapping his eyes around the room, or where he would straighten immediately, as if a commanding officer walked into the room. But it was covered with slouching and a lazy grin. “That I am,” the man said, smile growing slightly.

“Why?” Bucky flinched as the word left his lips, and then scowled at himself for flinching. He had forced himself not to ask Natasha anything about the two of them because he didn’t want to seem rude, but also because it was still none of his business. The two could be friends, siblings, lovers, or soulmates. But he couldn’t help it. He needed to know, and now that he had spoken it out loud, he _wanted_ to know. He wanted to know if the two of them were together so he could forget about the blue eyes that tracked his movements. The blue eyes he wouldn’t admit that he thought about too many times since the other night.

The blond rose an eyebrow – and Bucky was now just realizing that he didn’t even know this guy’s _name_ – and repeated back to him, “Why?”

Bucky found himself nodding once, wanting the answer so he could know if he had to stop himself from staring too long, because it would just be inappropriate to be staring at someone else’s soulmate.

When the blond just shrugged, Bucky almost growled. Instead, he forced out, glancing at Natasha’s door, “Are you guys…”

The blond grinned, looking at Bucky’s eyes before his own trailed down Bucky’s face. “Soulmates?” He asked, his voice sounding teasing. Bucky forced a nod, and after a moment, the other man began laughing.

It wasn’t a small set of giggles that could be pushed aside as amusement, but the bending-over-hands-on-knees laughing. The kind of laughter that filled the room, and almost sounded forced. The kind of laughter that turned the guy’s whole face red. The kind that had Bucky clenching his fists, trying not to get out of line.

Bucky had left his apartment to go for a walk, and had spotted the blond outside Natasha’s, and decided to strike up a conversation, given the last one. It was what someone did when they found another interesting, right? Talk to them, learn more about them. But now, Bucky almost turned back and went into his apartment, because he couldn’t _deal_ with this. Not with him.

“Soulmate?” The guy finally caught his breath, pulling himself up straight and breathing deeply. He let out another laugh, his mouth wide and grinning. “You think she’s my soulmate?” The man waved a hand in the air in dismissal, the smile never leaving his mouth. “Tasha is way too good for me, there’s no way in _hell_ that she’d be my soulmate. No, she’s just my sister. Foster sister, really.”

That was… not what Bucky had been expecting. He had been expecting a yes. He had been expecting the man to be laughing at him because he could tell the way that Bucky had looked at him. But that wouldn’t have explained that night outside of Natasha’s gym. The man had admitted to thinking that Bucky was attractive – kind of – and he had practically flirted – did he? – with Bucky. So then why was Bucky thinking that the two were soulmates when he was looking at someone else?

“Your sister.” Bucky moved, stepping across the hall to lean against the wall across from the man, though a few feet down. He stared at the wall across from him.

“Yeah,” the man said, and then began tapping an uneven rhythm against the wall behind him. “We were both orphans, ended up in the same foster home when she was fifteen, I was thirteen. That was the last foster home I went to, because of her.”

That… that startled Bucky. He didn’t know why, but it did.

The man smiled a little, though it was sad, guilty, a bit of regret. His blue eyes flickered over Bucky’s face for a moment, before looking at the wall beside Bucky’s head and keeping his gaze there as he continued. “We’ve been together ever since, really. Tasha found her soulmate about a year ago. It’s actually weird – and she’ll probably kill me for talking to you about her _soulmate_ – but the two are still ‘dating.’ Like, what is that? They have each other’s names written on their arms. It’s written on their skin that they were made for each other, and they’re taking it _slow_. I don’t understand.”

The two let the silence hang. But Bucky understood. “They’re soulmates.”

“What?” The man’s eyes narrowed in confusion. Bucky didn’t know if it was because Bucky didn’t explain what he meant in those two words or if the other man just hadn’t heard.

Bucky shrugged. “They’re soulmates. Like you said, they were made for each other, right?” When he nodded, Bucky continued. This was something Bucky could understand. His best friend had done the same thing, him and his soulmate dating for over a year before they even moved in together. “So they have the rest of their lives to get to know each other. They have the rest of their lives to find out what each other’s favorite color is, or how they like their steak, or where they should go for their anniversary. The rest of their lives.” Bucky didn’t know how miserable he sounded, but he knew he had let feeling into his words. He locked gazes with the blond, bit his lower lip before breaking eye contact to instead look at the guy’s shirt, and finished, “Some of us aren’t lucky enough to find our soulmates.”

“Yeah. I know.” Bucky could tell that that was an agreement, that he hadn’t met his soulmate either. The two let the silence sit again. Then the man let out a sigh. “Sorry about that. I talk too much, as you can see.”

“You always like that?” Bucky asked, the sorrowful mode now broken as he tried for a lighter one.

The blond’s face scrunched up, as if he hadn’t heard Bucky right. “What was that?”

“Do you always talk? Because I’m starting to think that you’ll be able to talk for the both of us.” Bucky shrugged. “I’m pretty quiet.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll be able to get you to come out of that shell of yours, if you let me.”

At that, Bucky felt himself hesitate. This was flirting, wasn’t it? Bucky was flirting, and his thoughts began to race. How can he be flirting with a guy when his soulmate was out there? When his soulmate could be walking down the street and all Bucky had to do was go outside and meet them? But then again, there was that saying, _live in the present_ , and all that. If Bucky ever met his soulmate, he could deal with it then. Now, he could do this. He could let himself have this.

“So, thanks.” Bucky met his eyes as the man shrugged. “Like I said, Natasha’s my sister, so I really appreciate you checking on her like that.”

“It’s not a problem.” And that was something that Bucky had _never_ said after Afghanistan. Was he really “coming out of his shell”, because of this man? “I just hope somebody finds the time to check on my sisters like that, since I’m not around to do it myself.”

Instead of the awkward silence that Bucky had been expecting, the man asked, “You have sisters?”

“Three, and they’re all a pain in my ass.” The man laughed at that, and Bucky felt himself smiling. “The younger two live in Indiana with the rest of my family, and the oldest moved with her husband to Ohio.”

Bucky watched as the man’s smile turned a little sad, and his gaze looked at Bucky’s chest, but then flicked back up to his eyes. “I always wondered what it would be like to have a big family.”

“It’s a disaster, you’re lucky.” Bucky pushed off the wall, and moved to the other man – whose name he still didn’t know – and reached his hand out. “Bucky.” The man blinked, confusion clear on his face. Bucky watched as the blue eyes slide to his lips as he formed his next words. “My name’s Bucky.”

“Huh. Well, I’m Clint.” He said as he shook Bucky’s hand. He paused, then let his voice turn teasing. “Bucky? What kind of name is that?”

“It’s a nickname. My real name is-“ Bucky froze at the sound of a door opening, and his eyes snapped over the guy’s – Clint’s – shoulder, and he dropped his hand back to his side. Natasha stepped out of her apartment, caught the sight of the two and smiled a knowing smile at Bucky. He only blinked. Clint moved, turning at Bucky’s expression. When he caught sight of her, the blond grinned.

“Hey boys.” Natasha nodded her head at Clint when their eyes met, and then her eyes flickered between the two. “What are you two up to?”

Clint grinned, his hands fidgeting in front of him as he spoke, but he continued to look at Bucky. “I got your Mr. Old Quiet Guy of a neighbor here talking.”

Slightly confused, Bucky asked, “Old? I’m only twenty nine.”

Natasha nudged her friend lightly and waited for Clint to look at her before she lifted her lips in a sly smile. “What happened to calling him Mr. Hot Neighbor?”

At that, Clint straightened, his eyes going wide as he glanced at Bucky. He didn’t look embarrassed, but more as if he had no idea if he should admit it in front of Bucky or not. The blond’s mouth fell open a few times, as if he were going to speak but didn’t know exactly what he was going to say. Finally, his eyes stayed on Natasha and he sent her a glare with mumbled words that sounded like a weak threat.

Bucky watched as Natasha’s smile grew almost into a smirk before turning her smile back to Bucky. But Bucky had no idea how to reply to that, so he let Clint take over again. “As I was _saying_ ,” Clint’s glare melted away as he realized Bucky hadn’t reacted at being called “Mr. Hot Neighbor,” and let his excitement take over. Clint lifted a hand to his mouth, glanced quickly at Bucky before whispering too loudly to Natasha, his voice breaking over the words, “He _does_ speak English.”

Bucky watched as Natasha rolled her eyes, and Clint crossed his arms over his chest with an accomplished grin. “You didn’t think I spoke English?” With a shrug from Clint, Bucky let his gaze wander to the floor. After meeting this man, and talking with him for even a short amount of time, Bucky was realizing that he could be spending his days more actively. But ever since he had gotten back from Afghanistan, Bucky had closed off from the world. He had avoided doing anything that wasn’t necessary to survival. He had stopped going to the grocery store as frequently, had waited to go outside his apartment if he heard voices outside so he wouldn’t run into anyone, had stopped small talk before it even started, had avoided everyone’s gaze so he didn’t have to watch people smile so much. Bucky had even avoided spending time with his best friend Steve, and instead had decided to stay inside locked doors so that he could avoid the outside world.

He needed to change that.

Bucky pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, and gripped it in his hands. When he finally looked back up, he saw the two friends looking at him. Bucky smiled to try and apologize, since he didn’t know how to say he was sorry for something they didn’t really know about. “Um,” he started, and tapped the hand holding his phone to his thigh. “I should go. I need to make a call.”

“Sure man,” Clint waved a hand to show that it was a no big deal. “It was nice talking to you, _Bucky._ ” He exaggerated Bucky’s name with a little grin and wide eyes. Bucky let out a laugh. Nobody had really came right out and said that Bucky’s name was strange. That is, until this guy.

Natasha reached out a hand and grabbed a hold of Clint’s arm. “Come on, Barton, let’s go.”

And Bucky watched them leave, as the two walked down the stairs. It was when Clint turned around at the front door of the building and he caught a smile on the others lips that what Natasha had just said clicked. She called him _Barton_. But his name was Clint, which had to mean that his last name was _Barton_.

_Clint Barton. Clinton Barton._

Bucky franticly pulled the sleeve of his jacket up his arm, and pulled away the piece of cloth that stuck to his skin. Bucky ran his thumb over the Name on his wrist as he stared down at the letters in shock.

_Clinton Barton._

Bucky let his arms fall to his sides as he lifted his head back up to stare over the railing and down at the front door. “James,” he whispered. “My real name is James.”

James Buchanan Barnes had met his soulmate, had been within arm’s reach of the man whose name was written on his skin. And he had slipped out of reach.

oOo

“Steve.” Bucky called out, loud enough for his best friend to turn where he stood, and to grin as their eyes met. Bucky couldn’t help but smile back. When he stepped closer, Steve pulled him into a hug, and Bucky said, “Hey.”

“Hey Buck,” Steve replied, and then pulled away so he could smile at Bucky again. “It’s been…”

Bucky nodded. “A long time. I know. And I’m sorry.”

The two began to talk and catch up as they walked down streets and through the park. They walked for what felt like hours. Steve told him about Peggy repainting the house, and how her niece was going to move in with them for a while. He told Bucky how Sam was doing, and how Steve still went to the VA meetings. Bucky didn’t have much to share, but he told his best friend about Natasha.

“How’s the arm?” Steve asked, and Bucky nodded, knowing that he would ask eventually, but surprised that he had waited. Bucky knew that Steve had been worried about him, and had been dying to ask, so he was honest with him.

“It still hurts every now and then.” Bucky paused, not sure how much he should be telling Steve that might trigger anything for his best friend. They had signed up for the Army together back when they were twenty, and they served in the same unit overseas. The two had been off base with the rest of their team when they were suddenly ambushed. That ambush was what had caused the team to get sent home, with Steve in a coma and Bucky doped up, and two members of their team dead. Steve had woken up, had gotten better, and a few months after they had been home, Bucky hadn’t. He had become closed off and paranoid every minute of the day. Steve had wanted Bucky to move in with him, so that he could look after him, but Bucky had closed off even more, and had even pushed Steve away as well. “Sometimes, I see a guy walking towards me on the street, and I freeze. I freeze, and I think that this is going to be him. This is going to be the guy who pulls out a knife and…”

 When Bucky stopped walking, Steve rose a hand to his arm, and Bucky let out a shaky breath. When he pulled himself together, he looked up at the blond. “I met someone.” At Steve’s expression, Bucky nodded. It came out of nowhere, but he needed his friend to know. “Yeah. He’s actually the reason why I called.”

“Really?”

“His sister, Natasha, is my neighbor, and when I finally talked to him, he told me he thought I didn’t speak English.” Bucky shrugged, seeing how Steve began to look… awed. “It got me thinking, that I was missing out on some things. He also got me to realize that I needed to call my best friend.”

“Well.” Steve raised his arm to give Bucky’s shoulder another squeeze. “I think I need to thank this guy for giving me my best friend back.”

“There’s something else.” Bucky moved to sit at a bench to look out at the park. Steve followed, now looking as if he were ready to hear some bad news. Bucky sighed as he felt Steve’s arm brush his, and he knew that Steve would be right there by his side. “His name is Clinton Barton.”

Bucky turned his blue eyes to look at Steve. And at first, Steve didn’t react, but just looked on. But after a moment, his eyes widened and his mouth fell open. “Bucky. You found him.” Steve began to smile as he realized what Bucky was telling him.

Bucky shook his head as frustration caused his fists to clench without his permission. The brunet spread his fingers out to grip his thighs before shaking his head again. “He doesn’t know.” _Steve will know what to do_ , Bucky thought. _I’ll tell him, and he’ll know what I should do._ “He doesn’t know, because he was leaving when I realized his last name was Barton. He was leaving, and it finally clicked that it was my Name, his _name._ ” Bucky stood, his hands rising to run through his hair with anger as he began to pace. “And I told him my name was Bucky. _Bucky_! And now I don’t know what to do. If I had just told him my name was James Barnes, if I had just said-“ Bucky broke off, and turned back to his friend. Defeated, he quietly said, “I don’t know what to do.”

Steve looked at him, and Bucky could tell that he was thinking. “He’s your soulmate. You guys were meant to be together. And you will. It might just take some time.”

“You gotta help me find a way to tell him.”

Steve didn’t hesitate a second, seeing that Bucky was sincerely worried. “Okay, this is what you’re gonna do...”


	2. Awakening

Bucky glanced up from the little piece of paper in his hand to check the address of the house he was passing. Seeing that it was not the right house number, he continued walking until he could get a view of the next one.

Up ahead on the sidewalk, Bucky saw two girls headed his way, and he moved to one side so they had room to pass him. Only, when the two got closer, the dark-haired girl stopped him. She wore a dark pair of sunglasses over her eyes, so Bucky couldn’t see if she was glaring at him or just looking at him with suspicion. The second girl, who had her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, gave Bucky a shy smile. The dark-haired girl stood tall and straight as she stopped in front of Bucky and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Whose house are you looking for?”

“Kate,” the blonde girl chided at the dark-haired girl’s tone. Bucky looked at these two, who were not as young as he had initially thought. The two couldn’t have been any younger than twenty.

But even with the small warning, the dark-haired girl held her ground and continued to stare Bucky down until he answered. Bucky admired that. He covered the paper in a fist and pushed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He trailed his eyes over to the blonde quickly before looking back at the brunette, who he was obviously dealing with. He cleared his throat and raised his chin. “I’m looking for Clint Barton.”

The girl didn’t reply straight away, and instead decided that she would initiate a staring contest – which was hard to do because Bucky couldn’t see her eyes – as if to see how honest Bucky was being. After a long silence, the girl nodded. “Almost made it. Two more houses.”

Bucky turned away from the girl to look at the house she meant. The two girls passed Bucky, but he waited on the sidewalk for another moment before moving.

“And don’t forget to ring the doorbell!” The girl called out, and Bucky turned to watch as she walked further away with the blonde. When he was finally alone again, with the realization that Clint was just two houses away, Bucky took a deep breath, and then moved forward.

Once at the door, Bucky raised his fist to knock at the door, and pressed his knuckles three times to the wood. He remembered the girl’s words after he lowered his arm to reach back up and push the little black button.

After Bucky had gotten home from his chat with Steve, he had went to his apartment and paced for about an hour before working up the courage to go two doors down and knock at Natasha’s apartment. And when she answered, he felt embarrassed for automatically thinking that Clint would be there. After staring dumbly behind her as if Clint would walk up behind her, he told her that he was looking for Clint.

Natasha had given Bucky Clint’s address after refusing to give him his phone number. He didn’t know if he was happy with the woman for making him talk to Clint face to face or not. He just knew he barely said more than seven words to her before he was leaving.

Bucky heard a loud crash inside the house, as if someone had moved a piece of furniture, or slammed something into a wall. A dozen things ran through his head at what that sound could be. Most of them were something he had experienced overseas. But before he could react and jump into motion, the door was opened, and Clint was talking. “What’d you do, ferget yer keys?  I’d ‘least expect you ta try ‘n break in through-”

The blond had his mouth full, and one hand was holding a half-eaten sandwich as the other held the door open. His words were muffled by the food, but he stopped chewing at the sight of Bucky on his doorstep and stared. After his initial surprise faded, the blond quickly swallowed his food. “Sorry. I thought you were Kate.”

Bucky snapped out of his own surprise. Thoughts of _soulmate, it’s him,_ chased away as he cleared his throat. “Uh, hi.” But Clint only looked at him, so he scratched at the back of his neck briefly with embarrassment. “Natasha gave me your address.” Bucky looked up through his lashes to try and gauge the man’s reaction. But his face was blank. _Yeah, because that explains everything,_ he thought.

Clint wiped his free hand down the front of his black t-shirt, then tapped at his jean clad thigh for a moment, looking Bucky up and down. “You wanna come in?”

Bucky nodded, then slipped through the doorway. Clint closed the door behind him, and then he followed the blond into the kitchen, who was without shoes or socks. But the brunet didn’t see a special place to set shoes, no mat by the door or in the hall. In fact, he didn’t see a pair of shoes anywhere, and not in the quick glance he had of the living room before he followed him into the kitchen. So he left his boots on, hoping it was alright.

Bucky took in everything; the wall colors, the crooked cabinets, the mismatched furniture. “Nice place.”

When Bucky turned back to Clint, it was to see him put the sandwich down on a plate that sat on the counter and glance up. “What?” After a moment, he looked down. “Oh yeah, I know, there’s a lot to be desired, I gotta clean up the place. The furniture is crap, and I asked Bruce if he could give me some tips. He was supposed to come over the other day. He never showed.”

Bucky was a little confused. He had just said that he liked the place, and instead, Clint had started talking about the work he needed to put into it. Bucky brushed it off, though. He ran a hand over his hair, following it to where he had pulled it up with a hair tie, though some of it had fallen out in the front and the back.

“Look, um, I was wondering if… I came here to talk to you.” Bucky struggled to get the words out, but nodded to himself when he finished and glanced up where he stood on one side of the island and Clint the other.

Clint looked slightly confused. “Talk? Yeah, sure we can talk. What are we talking about?” The man laid both his hands on the counter top, letting them take his weight as he leaned forward, the sandwich forgotten.

But Bucky didn’t say anything, not for a while. He was trying to figure out how to say that they were soulmates without actually blurting it out. And he didn’t want it to be awkward, or chase Clint off before he even got to know him.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Bucky shook his head. No, he could do this, no matter how confusing and difficult it all was.

“I don’t know how to say this, any of this, because it’s so frustrating. But before I even knew, I would have come anyways, I would have been here, talking to you, because you’re such a fucking weirdo. Shit, I’m horrible with this kind of thing. It’s a good thing, the weirdo part, I _like_ the weird part... Nobody has really been… real with me since I got back. They act like I’m broken, like I’m to be handled with bubble wrap, like if you say the wrong thing I’ll tip over the edge. But you… you don’t.” Bucky paused to bite his lip as he thought about what Steve said, lowered his head briefly before raising it again. “My friend told me to take it slow, but I can’t. I need to know. I just-“ Bucky stopped himself, instead to take off his jacket, watched as Clint just continued to stand there. He hadn’t said a word since Bucky started, since Bucky had become nervous. He didn’t know if it was because Bucky was just _talking_ , or if it was because Clint was just waiting. The blond just looked a little confused, if patient.

When Bucky was free of the jacket, his right hand gripped the sleeve of his left at the wrist. Steve had said to go slow, but Bucky couldn’t. He was frustrated, nervous, and he couldn’t _wait_. So with a deep breath, Bucky pulled his long sleeve up to his elbow, and stretched his arm out, his right hand falling to his side. Bucky had pulled off the cotton that had covered the Name for years earlier at his apartment, so there was nothing there but his bare skin and the Name on his wrist. Bucky looked up from his wrist that hung in the air over the counter kind of awkwardly to look up at Clint.

But he wasn’t there. Clint had moved, going around the island to stand next to Bucky. The soldier was surprised to feel his arm pulled to the side, a hand wrapped tightly just under his elbow. Bucky looked to the man pulling the appendage closer to see it better. Bucky let it happen, and that was another thing; if anyone else had grabbed him like that, he would have thrown a punch, or thrown a _person_. So Bucky watched as the blond stared at his wrist, and then lifted a hand as if to trace the words, but pulled away before his fingers could touch the skin.

And then Clint released him, pulling away and looking up to meet his eyes. Bucky watched the confusion fill over his features, and the shock, and other emotions he couldn’t identify that showed in his eyes. His mouth hung open, his eyebrows pinched together, and Bucky just watched, then nodded at the silent question.

“My real name… it’s James.” Bucky said, his voice shaky. “James Barnes?” Why had he said it like a question? But when he felt his hands shaking along with his voice, Bucky realized that even though he had rushed over, and came out and basically said that Clint was his soulmate, there was that doubt in the back of his mind, _what if he wasn’t?_ There could be other people with the name Clinton Barton, Bucky could have been _wrong_.

Clint blinked, and his head slowly tipped down, raising his own wrist. He didn’t move after that, and Bucky tensed up. Clint wasn’t going to show him, because Bucky wasn’t his soulmate, and Bucky – Clint pulled at the layer of bracelets around his wrist, pulled until they were all removed, and Bucky watched every movement. When the blond’s skin was bare, except for that black script, and he turned his wrist just right… Bucky smiled.

He smiled, and he felt his eyes sting with unshed tears, but he didn’t care. Bucky smiled and let out a laugh. He smiled and relief washed over him and happiness surged through him.

 _James Barnes_.

It was his name, and it made all of it worth it. Bucky huffed out another laugh, feeling his smile stretch. It was another few moments before Clint looked up and met his eyes. When he did, Bucky said, “We’re soulmates.”

oOo

Bucky wasn’t sure what to do. He couldn’t tell if Clint was okay with the fact that they were soulmates, or if he was completely upset with the whole situation. So when he asked Bucky if he wanted to sit on the couch, Bucky did, and then watched Clint leave the room. The soldier stared at his arm that was still bare up to the elbow, waiting, ignoring the sounds that drifted from the kitchen. He dipped his head, and his hair fell out from where he had pushed it behind his ears as he traced the Name on his wrist. He didn’t let himself think about what would happen if this didn’t work out.

Clint came in a few minutes later, and Bucky straightened to look at him over the couch. The blond raised his hands, which had a mug in each. “Cream? Sugar?” When Bucky shook his head, Clint moved into the room, gave Bucky a white mug and sat on the other end of the couch. The coffee was still steaming, so Bucky let it sit warm in his hands.

Clint gave Bucky a hesitant smile, before shaking his head. “Sorry, about earlier. I kind of… freaked out.” Bucky nodded, using one hand to tuck his hair back behind his ear, and then switched hands with the mug for his other ear. At least he had admitted it, instead of just pretending that everything was okay. Bucky didn’t want to force him into anything. Clint laughed once, taking a sip of coffee from a purple mug with an H on it. When he pulled it away from his lips, he smiled. “You know, we were just talking about how we weren’t lucky enough to find our soulmates. And here we are.”

Bucky nearly flinched at how loud Clint was talking, but nodded. Maybe it was like what Steve had always said, maybe it _was_ fate.

Years ago, before he had joined the military, before him and Steve had needed to grow up, Bucky never wanted to meet his soulmate. Because Bucky hadn’t wanted to believe in the idea of soulmates, that the Name written on his arm meant that there was somebody out there who would be his other half, that there would only be one person who would complete him. It made him feel like everything he did with his life was somehow already set. It made him feel trapped. It also didn’t help that Bucky’s little sisters teased him endlessly that his soulmate was a boy, no matter how many times their mother had explained that soulmates could just stay friends too.

But now, seeing his parents, his sister, even Steve, they had all found their soulmates, and they were happy. Everything had worked out for them. Maybe it would all work out for him, too.

Bucky tried not to stare at Clint from under his lashes, since they both had turned slightly on the cushions. The brunet with his left leg on the cushion and his elbows resting on his thighs as he leaned forward, where Clint half leaned against the arm of the couch, burying into the corner. After a few moments of silence, Bucky took a deep breath and tipped his head up all the way, blue eyes meeting blue. But the words he was about to say died on his lips.

There was a small smirk on his lips, looking smug, the coffee mug raised almost enough to cover it. He raised an eyebrow when their eyes meet. “A fucking weirdo, huh?”

With a laugh, Bucky shook his head, then nodded. “Yeah.”

“And that’s a good thing?” The smirk only grew.

Bucky tried to fight the smile that threatened to slip onto his lips. He wasn’t sure if he failed or not. “Yeah. It makes you… interesting.”

“Interesting. That’s a new one.” Clint took another long sip from his mug before he lowered it from his face. “So, my sister’s neighbor, with three sisters himself, speaks English, twenty nine years of age, takes his coffee black, and likes weirdos. That’s all I really know about James ‘Bucky’ Barnes.”

Bucky searched his face for a moment. It was true. He found himself smiling at that as he fidgeted with the mug still in his hands.  “James Buchanan Barnes. ‘S where the nickname comes from.”

Clint didn’t reply to that at first. Then, with disbelief and a small tilt of his head, he questioned, “Like the president?”

Bucky frowned. “Yes, like the president.” Bucky hadn’t gotten to choose what his name was, that had been his mother’s decision. But really, how did _everyone_ know that there was a president named James Buchanan?

Those thoughts were chased away as Clint began to laugh. Then there was a finger pointed in his direction. “Your face, you should see your face.”

Bucky frowned even more, almost scowling.

“No, no, I’m sorry.” Clint took another drink from his mug before he leaned forward and placed it on the coffee table. As he leaned back, he shot Bucky another smile and he laid a hand on his chest. “Clinton Francis Barton, if you must know.” He raised a shoulder in a half shrug. “But I like Clint.”

Clint laid both hands on his thighs after a moment, then nodded. “I’m twenty seven, I like coffee and pizza, I’m an orphaned foster kid with a redheaded assassin ninja as my only family, I like archery, and I’m… yeah, that’s me.”

“What do you do?” Bucky finally raised the mug to his mouth and drank some coffee, happy that it wasn’t too hot anymore. Once he lowered the mug, he clarified, “What do you do for work, I mean.”

“Uh,” Clint raised a hand to the back of his head, running it over his hair, seeming embarrassed. “I kind of… teach kids?”

“Kind of?”

“Yes, I teach kids.” He nodded, seeming much more confident. “I mean, I’m not a teacher at a school or anything. But, sometimes I teach at the archery range, stuff like that.”

An awkward pause settled around them, where Clint stared at Bucky with slightly widened eyes, and Bucky tightened his grip on the mug in his hands.

“Tell me about it.” Bucky found himself saying. He gave Clint a little smile when he just looked confused. “Tell me about the archery range. How’d you learn to shoot?”

And when Clint nodded in understanding and began to tell the story of a camping trip gone wrong, Bucky sat there. He sat there and he listened to the story, and then he listened to another, and another. And Bucky was fine with that, listening was something he could do. It let him soak up information, let him watch Clint’s face change expressions with his emotions.

Bucky learned that Clint had been shooting since he was thirteen, the year he stopped moving from one foster home to another. Clint’s foster parents had soon become his adopted parents, he had a brother that ran away when he was eleven and hadn’t heard from since, and that was all the family he had. Bucky learned that Clint was a dog person, and that if Bucky had owned a dog he would have met Clint much sooner. He was told about Natasha, a few stories of prank wars gone bad and bed forts gone right. He was told about Kate Bishop, the dark-haired girl Bucky had talked to briefly on the sidewalk, and how Clint had met her through teaching archery lessons. Clint had let her move in two years ago, a few days after she turned eighteen, and how she reminded Clint of himself.

Bucky learned a lot about Clint Barton, and even found himself opening up. He told Clint that he joined the military when he was eighteen, leaving out almost all of the details, especially about his arm, and told him a few stories about his childhood. But he left most of the talking to Clint, feeling more comfortable that way. Opening up, it was hard for him after everything that had happened.

But sitting with Clint… that was easy. It felt almost natural to talk with Clint.

Bucky had no idea how long the two talked for, or even how long he had been there. Since he had woken up that morning, he had been hyping himself up to go and talk with Clint. When he had finally worked up the nerve, he had dashed out before he could doubt himself.

But Clint had checked the watch on his right wrist, and let out a silent curse. He looked up with wide eyes, but before he could even begin, Bucky waved off his words. “No, it’s fine… If you have to be somewhere, I can take off.”

Clint nodded, lifting himself off the couch, and Bucky followed suit. The blond pointed at the mug in Bucky’s hand, and Bucky nodded at the wordless gesture and stretched his arm to give it to Clint. He then followed Clint into the kitchen, picking his jacket up from the back of the couch on the way.

Bucky watched Clint quickly rinse both their mugs out in the sink as the blond spoke. “I didn’t realize what time it was. I’ve gotta head out to the range. But I’ll show you out.”

Bucky nodded, gripping the jacket with his left hand as Clint began moving to the door. They were both quiet as they both walked toward the door, and Bucky found his thoughts quiet. When Clint pulled the door open, and Bucky took a few steps onto the porch before spinning around. Clint rested his weight against the doorway with his shoulder, arms crossed over his chest.

With a shift of his own shoulders, Bucky gave him a small smile. “Thanks for the coffee.”

Clint’s eyes narrowed, but he returned the smile. “Thanks for listening to me drone on and on about my life.”

Bucky let out a laugh. “No problem.” And then Bucky ran out of words. What was he supposed to say next? Should he say goodbye, ask to see Clint again? Or was this going to be the end of it?

But Clint gave him another nod. “I’ll be seeing you, alright?”

And that was reassuring, because Bucky had begun to get worried. Maybe Clint had been able to read that in his expression. So Bucky nodded back. “Alright.” He also lifted his hand in a little wave, but then found that to be too childish and scowled to himself, turning and dashing off the porch.

What he didn’t see as he walked down the sidewalk was Clint close the door and slide down to the floor, knocking his head back against the wall repeatedly.

**Author's Note:**

> But I clearly have no idea how to write one shots, as A Complete Idiot has shown, and now this. I just seem to want to keep writing and keep writing... Expect more!
> 
> On tumblr [reignofonyx](http://reignofonyx.tumblr.com), [cherryonamountain](http://cherryonamountain.tumblr.com/)


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